Dreams - ZoTash month
by DragonLady90
Summary: Wrote it for the ZoTash month on Tumblr. Some of my thoughts about Zoro influenced this fanfic, so It's written from his perspective. As for time, it's Punk Hazard, the end, when they had a party. One shot, if I get inspired maybe I'll write a sequel.


**_Wrote it for the ZoTash month on Tumblr._**

 ** _Some of my thoughts about Zoro influenced this fanfic, so I let loose hehe. It is written from his perspective. As for time, it's Punk Hazard, the end, when they had a party._ _One shot, if I get inspired maybe I'll write a sequel._**

 ** _One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda._**

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He had once told his dream to his rival. A little girl, but a rival no less.

The cruel and laughable twist of fate took her away, not giving them a chance to say their goodbyes. Ever since that day, he's been living only for the promise he made over her lifeless body. To make her proud and to honor her name. Nothing is important, but his dream. He has discarded everything for it.

Sometimes, his thoughts would drift in an absurd direction, wondering what would happen to them if he hadn't lost her so early. Would he clench to his dream even then, the way he did now?

Undoubtedly. She was his driving force.

The days went fast, once a boy now a man, pushed by his ambitions and only with the memory of her tears and fragile voice cursing her faith for not being born as a man. He cut his path through life with force, since he knew no other way. Not that it mattered.

And for so long nothing mattered.

Until that day when he met the woman who reminded him of her.

Her face was identical, and if that wasn't enough to call the ghost of the past, even her words were alike.

Is this another temptation sent on his path? Is Kuina laughing where ever she was, casting shadows from the past? He'd like to think her spirit was in Wado Ichimonji, accompanying him on his lonely journey, despite being surrounded by his nakama.

This woman with the face of his dead friend shook him to the core. _How can there be such a woman? Impossible._ His mind must be playing tricks on him.

 _No, no, no. Don't be an idiot. Such similarity could never exist under this Sun. Even the twins weren't the same._

Crossing blades with her, made him realize he can't face her again.

The reason went far beyond her looking like Kuina. What made him run and hide was the intimacy he felt for her, even though he just met her. Like she was the one whom he showed his crying face, who knew him since he was a little boy.

The mountain of feelings her single glance stirred, was irritable; the way she made him lose his composure, and the facade he worked so hard to build. That strange feeling in the pit of his stomach... Like when you're in a water and realize you went too deep. Deeper than you imagined. You want to put your feet on something solid, but there's nothing. Only abyss.

 _Maybe Kuina's spirit wasn't with him... Maybe..._

Two years have passed, since he saw her. And like his luck with direction, such was his luck in avoiding her. Not that it mattered now. He is in control of his emotions.

Behind the old facade, he's still hiding, calling her a copycat, although in his mind he already knows she's not. She may have looked like Kuina in the beginning, even saying the same words, but now, he's seeing her in the different light. Every time she gets frustrated for being inferior to him even though she busted her ass practicing, he knew. She was reminiscent of him, in the old days.

And even though her willpower was strong, she was missing the conviction he has now. Because he was carrying the dreams of the two people on his back. Her sword did not know the burden of it. And her pride... He once was forced to swallow his pride and beg the man who was his ultimate goal to train him. Because he was inferior. Weak.

And when you are at the very edge, nothing matters. Not even your pride. Once you feel a serpent's kiss, all your previous fears disappear, leaving only one - fear of not achieving your dream. In that moment, he felt so ordinary. But his drive was still there, burning ferociously, like a beast who was deadliest at its end. He had spit in the face of the Death, _Not yet,_ he screamed, _I haven't got where I want to be, so you're not getting me._

Be that as it may... Being so close to her was anything but making him feel indifferent. He did not have the urge to run away, he had other... Inexplicable urges. He was awakened.

Her pout planted the fire in his heart.

Her smile the most beguiling resonance.

Her warmness swept along his skin like the ocean's breeze in the summer day.

He did not have enough time with her. To traverse and understand what those feelings indicated. He had hoped it was not what he thought it was...

So he kept his distance when they separated, after reuniting with their parties.

Yet, somehow... He snorts. His stupid luck with directions. How is it possible that he ends up in the same place as her, again?

Mihawk once said that there were no wrong turnings, only paths we were meant to walk.

 _Hm, I wonder,_ he thinks to himself seeing her sitting on a rock, far from her men.

Her shoulders were slightly shaking and he hears a terrifying sound: a sniff.

 _She is crying._

Something clenches in his heart, and for a moment he wants to reach out to her, but he promptly stops.

Silent tears are meant to be unseen. And she... She may perceive it as an insult if he tries to comfort her.

 _Leave then,_ an inner voice speaks, yet his legs are not moving.

She stands up and turns around, her eyes wide at the sight of him.

 _Shit._

"Ro-Ronoa..." She mumbles, quickly wiping away the beads of water on her face, trying to hide her glassy eyes behind her bangs.

"I... How's your shoulder?" He blurts away the first thing on his mind.

"Fine." She looks away, her lips slightly trembling, from cold or from crying he did not know.

"Good." He mumbles, scratching his head. "Well, I'll be going."

"No, you can stay. I'm going." Her voice struggled to find its usual sharpness when speaking to him.

She starts walking quickly, practically running away.

And he would let her, but instead, he stops her, catching her by the wrist.

 _What the hell am I doing?_

Tashigi stiffens, her mouth slightly gaped, as she looked at him searching for an explanation.

He couldn't blame her, as he did not know what the fuck he was doing.

"I-Um... Sorry." He releases her hand, looking away.

The silence between them was unbearable. He couldn't imagine what she was thinking, not in a million years. So he does something he always did when situations got tense. Cut through it.

"I'm leaving so, stay here," not waiting for her reply, he tries to go back the way he came from.

"Wait!" He hears a voice unbeknown to him. It was soft and sweet, making his stomach on fire like a good bottle of sake. He speeds up like the devil was chasing him, only he would actually stand a chance against the devil and would not run away.

"Aghhh," a delicate moan is heard and he freezes, feeling someone grabbing his shoulder, colliding with his back. Soft and warm...

He does not have the strength to turn around, worried of what was awaiting him.

"S-Sorry! I didn't m-mean, s-sorry! I slipped and- Ugh..." Then it disappeared, and he falls into a trap, turning around.

Her face was graceful with a shade of camellia, her bare hands pressing against her cheeks.

The beating of his heart echoed in his ears. He stared at the bewitching sight in front of him, trying to find where his reason was. But like usual, he was bad at finding places.

"I-Um.."

It was her voice. She spoke to him with that voice. His eye widened.

"I thought..." Her face got a shade deeper. "Y-you could..."

He caught himself holding his breath for a moment.

"Join me." She mutters it, but his keen ears perceive her whisper like a sweet melody.

He stares at her for a moment longer, making sure to carve this into his memory. This new face, she was showing only to him, without a doubt.

But his lingering gaze made her feel like she did something bad.

"Nevermind." She lets out a nervous giggle. "Goodbye, then."

"Wait!" This time he catches her by the shoulder. Goodbye was an insult to him. It meant like they would never see each other again, which was definitely not okay. It made him somewhat angry.

Her mouth slid open at the intensity of his roar.

"I would like that."

The next part was fuzzy. He was never that drunk, so this was new to him. They held hands, he's sure. Her icy hand melted into his, making him sweat like they were in the Burning Lands of the Punk Hazard.

They sat side by side, and he was too dazed to hear what she was saying. She talked really fast seemingly nervous, and he caught himself staring at her lips. And at one point, he was yearning for the taste of them. Her lips were almost as tempting like the wine Mihawk did not allow him to consume.

"...do you have a dream, Roronoa?"

Her question snaps him from the drunken state, surprised by it.

"Only a man with a dream can fight like that." She proceeds like she was talking to herself.

"I also have a dream-"

"To get my Wado Ichimonji." He finishes for her. "Or is it Shusui, as well, now?"

"I... You... As long as you wield your swords... You treat them with respect."

He knew her dream. She had said it so loudly back then in Loguetown. But he liked to tease her none the less.

"I wield them with conviction. They are heavy because they carry..." He wanted to say, souls. Kuina, he considered, has been always by his side in Wado Ichimonji, but she was not the only one accompanying him on his path of carnage. The dead samurai, Ryma, was also with him, and all of his past with Shusui, the treasure he entrusted to him. Who knows how many souls Sandai Kitetsu ripped. Its cursed nature brought horrifying death to its masters, making a selection, deeming them unworthy. He had a will of its own, that ominous presence he always felt. There was a high possibility it slaughtered some of its previous masters.

She looks at him, waiting to finish his thought. He shuts his eyes, letting out a sigh. "...my very soul and the hopes and dreams of previous masters."

She looked perplexed, almost enchanted by his words. Her gaze bestowed a glint of admiration, perhaps?

"Now I understand," she mumbled, confusing him. He looks at her with his eyebrow raised, trying to solve the mystery of her words, but she stays silent.

"Swords are beautiful instruments, deadly in the hands of the people. It is wrong to say they are ugly. They are not the ones who do despicable things. Its wielders are. They are simply used as tools to express inscrutable impulses of savage passions. The swords are-"

"Crying, I remember." He finishes for her again. "But you don't get-"

"I know. Back then I was oblivious to some things. But I still believe in my dream. I will make it true."

"The world becomes a battlefield the moment you shout your dream to heavens, remember that. Every moment is a struggle. And it's equal," he deliberately emphasized the word, seeing how she was fired up, itching to fight him, "... for all living things. Learn from your mistakes, and once in a while swallow your pride." He grinned.

 _I almost sound like that bastard._

He prepares for her shouting, but it did not come. Instead, she fell silent, gazing at her palms. Silence settled between them, as she was scribbling with the branch on the snow-covered ground.

"Your dream... Does it have to do something with your dead friend?"

Her sudden words struck him to the core, opening his biggest wound anew.

Why did he have a problem with telling her about his dream? He declared it so many times in front of everyone, it was not a secret. Yet a lump was stuck in his throat.

"Ah... I'm sorry, that's private. Not something you want to talk about with a stranger," she gets up. "I have to go." She glanced at him, "Next time we meet, we're on the opposite sides again."

Her words give hope that they will definitely see each other again, and in a peculiar way were comforting. But he was not ready to let her go just yet. Not until he tastes that wine.

Tashigi turns around, walking away slowly. His arms worked faster than his brain, as he enveloped her from behind. She freezes, but does not push him away, nor tries to reach for her sword.

"We're no strangers." He whispers. "I want to be the best... Tashigi." He answers her previous question, murmuring into her ear, feeding on a soft moan she emitted. The aching need for tasting her lips was too much for him to handle, and he tries to turn her to face him, careful of her injured shoulder. But she was faster. With the next blink of his eye, she brushes her lips against his, in a clumsy and hasty kiss.

 _Not enough. I need more,_ his mind commanded.

He cups her face, caressing her scarlet cheeks with his thumbs.

"I'm going to be the world's greatest swordsman." He breathes out, claiming her lips hungrily.

And when she was gone with her men and kids, he felt fine. Back to his usual self. He felt satisfied at the thought of her soft and plump lips. He may have found something he liked as equally as booze. He was fine.

No, he was not fine.

He wishes he had more time with her. Just a little more.

To prove to her...That they were not strangers.

To have her beside him undressed, feeling her breath, her warmth, her soft skin, her hair fanned on the- He shakes his head.

Maybe his primal instincts would guide him.

Agitated with such thoughts, he sat back at the spot she was sitting on, just a while ago, where unspoken words were written in the snow.

愛してるよ (aishiteru yo, I love you)

He read the words he never allowed himself to spring out in his mind, the words he tried to hide, but felt.

"That woman, nothing but trouble," he grinned, but not in a usual way. It was more like a lonesome smile.

 _I love you too,_ he thought of the words that he couldn't say to her. But he will.

Once they meet again.

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 **Tell me your thoughts, ne? Domo :) Sorry if there is some mistake ^^'**


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